Thursday, March 29, 2012

As I
noted in my previous post, the opening scene of the “Mad Men” season premiere
appeared to show advertising employees dropping water balloons on a group
protesting for greater spending on anti-poverty programs. It turns out the scene is based on a
real-life event uncovered by the show’s researchers. In the New York Times’ account of May 28, 1966,
the Young and Rubicam (Y & R) employees harassed a group picketing outside
the Office of Economic Opportunity (OEO) office on Madison Avenue. The scene reflects some of the fissures surrounding
President Lyndon Johnson’s “War on Poverty,” also referred to as the “Great
Society.”

Passed in
1964, the OEO was the lead agency in LBJ’s ambitious effort to reduce poverty. Run by JFK”s brother-in-law Sargent Shriver,
it was designed to administer antipoverty funds through local Community Action
Agencies (CAAs) in major urban areas. Based
on the idea that poor people needed to be politically empowered to overcome
poverty, legislation required the CAAs to achieve “maximum feasible
participation” among the poor. While
conservatives often criticize Great Society programs for creating large
centralized bureaucracies, elements of the New Left of the 1960s shared the
right’s suspicion of the federal government, wanting more “participatory
democracy” that would put power in the hands of local communities. The CAAs
seemed to be influenced by this ideology, even though Johnson was certainly not
sympathetic to the New Left.

Big city
mayors such as Chicago’s Richard J. Daley disliked the CAAs because they thought
they were receiving funds that should go to their own political organizations. Furthermore, the CAAs developed their own
power base and opposed the policies of local administrations, as much of the
CAA’s efforts went to political activities that did not help people get out of
poverty.

According
to the NYT”s account from 1966, this dynamic
may explain the once forgotten but now famous protest. Chanting “O-E-O, we’ve got the poverty where
is the dough,” outside the Northeast regional headquarters of the OEO, the
picketers expressed frustration that more antipoverty money was not coming to
New York City. The regional director responded
that there weren’t more funds available, adding, “New York is getting more than
its fair share of money.” It’s possible
that less funding was available because the war in Vietnam was crowding out
appropriations for the War on Poverty, as LBJ increasingly realized he could not
have both “guns” and “butter” at the same time.

The signs
hung on the Y & R building in 1966 during the protest provide an early sign
of the backlash against American liberalism that gained strength during the
second half of the decade. One
read, “If you want money, get yourself a
job,” a refrain that would become more common as many working-class
Americans began to believe the Great Society was wasting their tax dollars. Another said, “Support your local police—no
review board,” a reference to the demands from liberals for a civilian review board
to monitor police brutality. Such an
oversight agency was deeply unpopular in the outer boroughs of the city as
crime grew throughout the decade, which was reflected in the season four “Mad Men”
episode where Joan and Roger are mugged.
Rising crime across the country made “law and order” a popular cry for
conservative politicians and would contribute to the GOP’s victory in the 1966
midterm elections as well as Richard Nixon’s presidential win in 1968.

Although the
1966 protest represents popular perceptions of the 1960s as a decade of liberal
political and cultural change, the signs at Y & R are also an important
representation of the spirit of the times.
While social movements like the civil rights and feminist movements
achieved legal success and more money was spent fighting poverty, many blue-collar Americans
resisted these changes, leading to a conservative backlash that was just as
enduring as the social changes of the period.
After 1968, Republicans controlled the White House for 20 of the next 24
years, their reign only interrupted by Jimmy Carter’s narrow post-Watergate win
in 1976. Political conservatism, just as
much as cultural liberalism, is a central legacy of the turbulent 1960s.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

After a
way-too-long hiatus, “Mad Men” is finally back and it is 1966. The show’s aesthetic appears considerably
brighter than in previous seasons, perhaps reflecting the move from the early
1960s to the cultural shifts of the second half of the decade. During this period, the civil rights movement
moved from focusing on legal equality to emphasizing economic issues, the antiwar movement grew while
hawks and doves clashed over the Vietnam War, the drug culture emerged and
sexual mores evolved.

The
program begins with executives from another Madison Avenue agency dropping
water balloons on interracial protesters advocating greater funding for anti-poverty programs. President Lyndon
Johnson’s War on Poverty was well underway at this point, but some liberals were
frustrated that Vietnam was siphoning away funds from it. The protest may be a reference
to the National Welfare Rights Organization (NWRO), which formed in 1966 and
agitated for greater social spending.

By 1966,
the Americanization of the war in Vietnam was in its second year. While a majority of
Americans still supported the war, opposition was gradually growing as more
bodies came home. Indeed,
arch-conservative Bert Copper and Peggy Olson’s boyfriend, Abe Drexler, who is
a bohemian journalist, debate the merits of the domino theory at Don Draper’s
40th birthday party. The domino theory, which was first espoused by Cold Warriors in the 1950s, suggested that if one nation fell to communism, nearby countries would then fall as well. Believing that all communist nations took orders from the Kremlin, this idea was a central part of the rationale for defending non-communist South Vietnam from aggression from communist North Vietnam “The
domino theory is not a joke,” declares Cooper, while Abe responds that Vietnam is in the midst of a civil war and “that there
is no monolithic communism. It’s just an excuse”

Signs of
the growing power of the youth culture also appear, as one client wants to
change his company’s 1950s era image in order to reach out to college
kids. Disenchanted with Peggy’s first ad
proposal, he even suggests a campaign that incorporates student protests.

As has been
the case in previous seasons, gender issues remain at the center of “Mad Men.”
The show not so subtly suggests that Trudy Campbell and Joan Harris, who have
both given birth since the last season, are suffering from postpartum depression. “The Feminine Mystique” again makes an appearance,
as Joan is desperate to get back to work, although her mother declares that her
doctor husband won’t “allow” her.

Peggy
Olson also continues to signify the women’s movement in various ways. Early on, she mentions that she spent the
weekend working at the office. Later, she
becomes extremely uncomfortable when asked to take care of Joan’s baby for a
brief time.

The
season seems to continue the gradual shift towards disapproval of the era’s smoking
and drinking, which were arguably romanticized in the early seasons. Roger’s and Don’s boozing seems to be taking
a toll on their work, as Pete appears to be the only one bringing in any business
and Peggy is carrying the advertising load.
Pete even gets frustrated when Don and Roger are late to a meeting, sarcastically
asking if “they stopped for a drink along the way?” He then tells Roger not to smoke in his
office.

Other
historical references included Oldsmobile wanting to meet with Roger to find “a
way around (Ralph) Nader.” This is a
reference to the publication of Nader’s Unsafe
at Any Speed in 1965, which lead to greater regulation of auto safety,
including seat belts. Pete tells Roger
that there isn’t any way.

Finally,
it appears that race, which has been a minor theme in the show, may be moving
closer to center stage. To mock their
competitors who dropped the water balloons, Roger and Don place an ad in the New York Times declaring that Sterling
Cooper Draper Price is an “equal opportunity employer.” As a result, a number of African Americans
come to the office looking for jobs. Roger is horrified and Lane says the firm can’t afford any new hires. Fearing bad publicity if they turn the applicants away, the firm accepts
resumes from black women for a secretarial position as the show concludes. Even at Sterling Cooper, the times may be a-changin'.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

This week marks the beginning of the National Collegiate Athletic Association
(NCAA) Tournament, popularly known as “March Madness,” which determines the
men’s college basketball champion. The
month-long competition, once relatively obscure, has become massively popular, garnering
the interest of casual fans more than any other sporting event besides the
Super Bowl.

In the 1950s, the National Invitational Tournament (NIT) was the most
prestigious postseason college tournament.
Over time, the NCAA surpassed it, with John Wooden’s UCLA Bruins teams dominating
throughout the 1960s and 70s, winning 10 titles in 12 years. The NCAA split the field into four regions,
with the winners of each area becoming known as the “Final Four.” After airing on regional television in its
early years, the final appeared on network television for the first time in
1973, as UCLA defeated Memphis State (The
Big Dance, p. 100).

As with other sporting events I’ve analyzed, observers often point to
one particular game that laid the groundwork for its rise. In the case of the
NCAA Tournament, it was the 1979 title game between Magic Johnson’s Michigan
State Spartans and Larry Bird’s Indiana State Sycamores. Though the game itself
was not close, the hyped battle between the two future NBA stars produced the
highest rating in the history of the tournament, setting the stage for the
event’s growth during the final two decades of the 20th century.

The 1980s and 90s witnessed a series of close games involving elite
programs and All-American players. With
college stars remaining in school for three or four years, many appeared in multiple
Final Fours, including Houston’s Clyde Drexler (2) and Hakeem Olajuwon (3), Georgetown’s
Patrick Ewing (3), as well as Duke’s Christian Laettner, who made it in all four
of his seasons. Indeed, Laettner’s Blue
Devils replaced UCLA as the dominant program during this era, becoming the New
York Yankees of the sport, loved by supporters and despised by opponents.

The emergence of ESPN in 1979 proved crucial to the rise of the
tournament, as the nascent sports network covered every game of the hectic early
rounds, breaking in to the ends of close contests to show dramatic
finishes. This technique made the first
four days of March Madness among the most exciting in all of sports. After witnessing the success of this formula,
CBS purchased the rights to the entire tournament, putting all of the games on
network television in 1991 (Big Dance,
105).

By the 1990s, more and more offices held pools to see who could
correctly fill out their brackets and predict the outcome of the tournament. With everyone putting their money on the line,
the office pool became a national phenomenon with even non-fans participating
and following the results. President
Obama, a huge basketball fan, has publicly announced his brackets on ESPN each
year since he took office. Long lunches are
often the rule of the day during the early rounds, diminishing worker
productivity. With the emergence of the
Internet, the situation has become worse as workers can now watch all games
streaming on their office computers. One
firm suggests that 2.5 million workers will spend roughly 90 minutes watching
the tournament while ESPN ‘s Liz Granderson proposes making the first two days
of the tournament a national holiday (Challenger, Gray and Christmas).

Like most sporting events, the ratings for March Madness have declined
in recent years due to competition from new entertainment options. Furthermore, with players either skipping
college entirely or only going to school for a year, few players participate in
more than one Final Four anymore. NBA greats
such as Kobe Bryant and LeBron James, unlike their predecessors, never played
in the tournament. In their absence, the
coaches of elite programs have taken center stage, including Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski,
North Carolina’s Roy Williams, and Kentucky’s John Calipari. Nevertheless, March Madness remains the most
consistently entertaining event in sports and I will be following my brackets religiously
for the next month (at least until they’re busted!).

Sources: Barry Wilner and Ken Rappaport, The Big Dance: The Story of the NCAA Basketball Tournament, 2012.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The ESPN
film, “The Announcement,” transports us back two decades to 1991, when basketball
superstar Earvin “Magic” Johnson told the nation he was HIV positive. The attitudes
revealed in the program, however, make it feel like a century ago. In a time when AIDS has become a treatable
chronic condition, the documentary reminds its audience of an era when the
disease was a death sentence and one of the most controversial issues in the
country.

Doctors
first encountered AIDS in the early 1980s, when it began to appear among groups
of gay men in major cities. Over time,
it became clear that the illness, which weakened an individual’s immune system,
produced a 100% fatality rate. When actor
Rock Hudson announced that he had contracted the illness in 1985, awareness of
the disease increased dramatically.

Still, ignorance
marked the early years of the AIDS epidemic with many believing they could get
the illness through causal contact. The
Reagan Administration was slow to respond to the crisis and some social
conservatives blamed the disease on the gay community, with Pat Buchanan
declaring, "The poor
homosexuals -- they have declared war upon nature, and now nature is extracting
an awful retribution.” Ryan White, a teenage
hemophiliac who had contracted the virus through a blood transfusion, became
the public face of the illness because he was an “innocent” victim of the
disease.

“The Announcement” recalls these times, when even a star like Magic
had a difficult time getting people to work out with him because he had
HIV. His appearance in the NBA All-Star
game a few months after his press conference was fraught with controversy, with
some players fearful about being on the court with Magic. When Johnson attempted a full-scale comeback
in the fall of 1992, it ended during the preseason because some players were
reluctant to physically challenge him. Utah
Jazz All-Star Karl Malone, Magic’s teammate on the 1992 U.S. Olympic “Dream
Team,” openly expressed concerns about playing against Johnson.

One notable omission from “The Announcement” is Magic’s appearance on
the Arsenio Hall Show the day after his admission. During the interview, Hall, a close friend of
Johnson’s, asked him about the association of AIDS with the gay community. Magic responded by declaring he was the
“furthest thing from a homosexual” and the crowd hooted and hollered in
approval. It is interesting that this clip, which seems anachronistic today but
reflected the homophobia of the time, was left out.

Also, Nelson George, the director of the film, compares Magic’s
revelation to the Kennedy assassination, calling it a moment that everyone
remembers where he or she was when they heard about it. Though Johnson’s press
conference was an important event, I don’t think it quite rises to that level
of importance, though I’d be curious as to what readers think in this regard.

When Magic made his announcement, the collective national and
international reaction was that he would die in relatively short order. Indeed, AIDS advocates criticized Johnson’s optimism
about beating the disease as evidence of denial. In the mid-1990s, however, AIDS
researchers like David Ho, who treated Johnson in the early stages of the illness,
developed the “cocktail,” which limited the effectiveness of the virus,
allowing people to live long and productive lives while HIV positive. Though there was no moment of national
celebration as there was when Jonas Salk introduced the polio vaccine in the
1950s, the illness gradually receded from the headlines and is no longer the front-page
news it was from the early 80s to the mid-90s.

Nevertheless, it should not be forgotten that the virus continues to
ravage the developing world, particularly Africa. In another example of changing times, American
evangelicals have become outspoken supporters of the effort to prevent the
spread of AIDS in Africa. Such behavior,
embodied by the considerable financial support for AIDS programs in Africa during
the George W. Bush Administration, represents a dramatic shift from the initial
reaction of social conservatives to the epidemic.

Today, Magic Johnson is a tremendously successful businessman and TV
announcer. He has almost completely
eliminated the stigma of the illness from himself, earning major endorsements
like he did during his athletic prime in the 1980s. Amazingly, Ho says Magic’s immune system is now
stronger than it was when he was initially diagnosed in 1991. As Johnson
himself notes, his survival is both a blessing and a curse, providing evidence
of the success one can have living with HIV while also diminishing fear about
its consequences.

Monday, March 12, 2012

I very much
liked the HBO movie “Game Change” and its examination of Sarah Palin’s role in
the 2008 presidential campaign. Featuring
strong performances by Julianne Moore as Palin, Ed Harris as John McCain, and
Woody Harrelson as Steve Schmidt, McCain’s campaign manager, it is one of the
best political movies of recent years. Furthermore,
the film’s depiction of Palin’s ill-fated vice-presidential campaign reveals
how the importance of the second-in-command position has risen over the
years. Once little more than an afterthought,
the vice presidency has become exceptionally important in American presidential
campaigns and governance.

In the
not too-distant past, the V.P. was almost irrelevant, except for its role in
the constitutional succession process. John
Adams, the first man to hold the position, called it “the
most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived or his
imagination conceived.” Presidents often kept their vice president in
the dark about vital issues, as Harry Truman did not even know about the
Manhattan Project when FDR died in 1945.
In 1956, Democratic nominee Adlai Stevenson allowed the convention
delegates to choose his running mate, with Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver
edging out a young John F. Kennedy. Four years later, JFK picked Lyndon Johnson
to help him win in the South, where he was going to struggle because of his
Catholicism. Though LBJ proved critical
in carrying Texas, the last time a V.P. pick put a state in the president’s
column, he played little role in the Kennedy Administration. Johnson returned the favor by treating his V.P.,
Senator Hubert Humphrey, in much the same fashion.

In 1972,
when the vetting process for selection was more lax, Democratic nominee George
McGovern picked Senator Thomas Eagleton of Missouri as his running mate. The media discovered that Eagleton had undergone
treatment for mental illness and received electroshock therapy, causing a
firestorm. Though Eagleton neglected to disclose his medical history to the campaign, McGovern initially stood by his choice,
but eventually relented because of the controversy. McGovern would likely have lost to Richard
Nixon anyway, but the fumbled V.P. choice sealed his fate. As a result, vice-presidential selections
would face greater vetting in the future (or at least that’s how the story
goes).

During
the Carter years, the role of vice president changed significantly. Running as a Southern governor critical of traditional
Washington ways, Jimmy Carter brought in Senator Walter Mondale of Minnesota to
bring some insider experience. Though
Carter fumbled in his dealings with Congress, Mondale became the first V.P. to
have a White House office and had far greater responsibilities than his mentor
Humphrey had when he served LBJ. Mondale’s
tenure, which also included weekly lunches with the president, set an important
precedent for future vice presidents.

In 1988,
George H. W. Bush chose his running mate, Senator Dan Quayle of Indiana, for
the traditional reasons a candidate picked a vice president. Bush, a moderate Republican from the World
War II generation, chose Quayle, a conservative Republican from the baby boom
generation, to provide ideological and age balance to the ticket. This calculus backfired when Quayle appeared
too youthful and inexperienced during the campaign and was a liability throughout
the Bush administration. It was probably
too much, too soon for Quayle, who might have had a respectable career if he
hadn’t faced the national spotlight before he was prepared.

With
Quayle’s selection still the subject of criticism in 1992, Bill Clinton set a
new standard when he chose Al Gore as his partner. Rather than looking to balance the ticket,
Clinton chose another candidate like himself, a Southern moderate baby
boomer. Redefining a Democratic Party
still struggling with its liberal reputation, this break with conventional
wisdom proved brilliant, as the Clinton/Gore campaign left their convention
with energy and momentum and never looked back.

Once in
office, Gore played a considerable role in the administration. Not merely an adviser, Gore carried out
specific portfolios in areas of his expertise, such as Russia, space and
technology, the environment, and reinventing government. The days of the irrelevant vice presidency
seemed far behind.

In light
of this model, candidates began to pick V.P.’s as much for their role in governance
as for their political benefits. Choices
like Dick Cheney (Wyoming) and Joe Lieberman (Connecticut) came from states that Bush and Gore expected in win easily. To avoid a Quayle-like
disaster, candidates also picked individuals who had already been through
national campaigns (Gore, Jack Kemp, John Edwards, Joe Biden) or were
established Washington fixtures (Cheney, Lieberman). Controversies over the qualifications of vice
presidential selections appeared to be a thing of the past.

While the
selection process went much smoother, vice presidents certainly did not escape
controversy. Playing a greater role than any previous occupant of the office, Dick
Cheney became the most powerful and divisive V.P. in American history. Many Americans believed that Cheney was the true
leader in the Bush Administration, instrumental in the decision to go to war in
Iraq.

Given the
considerable roles played by Gore and Cheney, respectively, the events of “Game
Change” seem quite perplexing. Perhaps
because of the fading memory of the Quayle selection, “Game Change” portrays a
scattershot vetting process of Palin that only took five days and led to the
pick of an unqualified candidate. Desperate
to win the election against long odds, McCain campaign manager Steve Schmidt
(Harrelson) and others believed a dramatic step was necessary to defeat
Obama. The results, as the movie shows,
were simply disastrous. Palin lacked the
knowledge and temperament to conduct a national campaign and while she
energized the GOP base, the Alaska governor hurt them dramatically with the
swing voters necessary to win the election.
Though McCain, like McGovern in 1972, would likely have lost anyway
because of Bush’s unpopularity and the collapsing economy, Palin ended any chance
for the GOP nominee.

Just as
the two decades following Dan Quayle’s selection led to greater conservatism in
the vice presidential selection process, “Game Change” and the Palin pick will
likely have the same impact. Assuming Mitt Romney is the GOP nominee, I doubt
he will pick a rising but unproven star like Florida Senator Marco Rubio or New
Jersey Governor Chris Christie. The risk
is simply too great.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

In an
earlier post, I explored how studios revive old television and film franchises
in a quarter-century cycle (See http://popculturemeetshistory.blogspot.com/2011/10/return-of-mid-1980s.html.)
And like clockwork, Hollywood is now recycling shows from the late 1980s, as
the film version of “21 Jump Street” premieres this week. “Jump Street” has not aired in syndication for many years and is a largely forgotten program, but it was one
of the early FOX shows and helped launch the network as well as Johnny Depp’s acting
career.

When “21
Jump Street” debuted in the spring of 1987 as part of FOX’s first primetime
lineup, Rupert Murdoch’s dream of challenging the decades-old dominance of ABC,
NBC, and CBS seemed like a fantasy. The
program, which revolved around a group of youthful-looking police officers
working undercover in American high schools, appeared on the air before early
FOX hits like “The Simpsons” or “Beverly Hills 90210.” The then-unknown Depp became the center of
the ensemble cast, which led to roles in films like “Edward Scissorhands”
(1990), the first of seven collaborations with director Tim Burton.

While FOX
struggled in the ratings in its early years, the network’s fortunes got a huge
boost when Murdoch acquired the rights to the National Football Conference (NFC)
football package in 1993. At the time,
the NFC was dominating the NFL with its streak of 13 consecutive Super Bowl
victories, and featured bigger markets (Chicago, Washington, Philadelphia,
Dallas) than the weaker AFC. After this
coup, FOX acquired stronger affiliates and the network became a genuine
competitor to the Big Three.

Once the
entertainment network attained a secure foothold, the FOX News Channel started
a few years later in 1996. With the help
of longtime GOP operative Roger Ailes, Murdoch sought to dethrone CNN as leader
of the 24-hour cable news market. The
network quickly became a success, carving out a niche with conservative viewers
unhappy with the supposed liberal bias of the mainstream media. By 2002, it had surpassed CNN and has usually led
the news ratings race ever since. In a
landmark for cable news in 2004, more people watched the Republican National Convention
on FOX News than any other network, including the old broadcast networks.

As FOX
News became a controversial success, its entertainment counterpart became the most
popular broadcast network for the coveted 18-49 year-old demographic. With shows like “24” and “House” in its
lineup, along with the unbelievable popularity of “American Idol,” FOX defeated
the major networks among younger viewers from 2004 to 2009.

Today,
FOX is thriving while NBC, which dominated the ratings race during the 1980s
and 90s, barely has a pulse among viewers.
Over the same period, Depp became a bankable leading man as well as
highly respected actor with three Oscar nominations. Without “21 Jump Street,” there might never
have been a FOX News Channel or a Captain Jack Sparrow. Is this a good or a bad thing? I blog.
You decide.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

With
little fanfare, the county commemorated the 50th anniversary of John
Glenn becoming the first American to orbit the Earth on February 21. The inattention to Glenn’s accomplishment as
well as the constant mocking of Newt Gingrich’s moon base plan, culminating in
SNL’s February 4th opening skit, “Newt Gingrich: Moon President,”
reveals a significant change in American ambitions. The space program, once an
important source of national pride and influence on television and film, has
faded in relevance and NASA is rapidly headed toward obscurity.

The Cold
War provided the impetus for the space race.
Glenn’s triumphant voyage came after the Soviet Union launched the first
satellite into space in 1957 with Sputnik as well as the first man into space
when Yuri Gagarin made an orbital flight in 1961. The race continued as the United States beat
the Russians to the moon when Apollo 11 and Neil Armstrong landed at
Tranquility Base on July 20,1969.

During
NASA’s heyday in the 1960s, astronauts became national icons who received tickertape
parades down New York City’s Canyon of Heroes, as Glenn did in 1962. The space race gave credence in science
fiction as “Star Trek” premiered on television in 1966, with “2001: A Space
Odyssey” and “Planet of the Apes” opening in theatres in 1968. Even a silly sitcom like “I Dream of Jeannie”
(1965-70) took place at Cape Canaveral where Larry Hagman’s bumbling character,
Major Anthony Nelson, worked as an astronaut.

After the
moon landing, many NASA scientists like Werner Von Braun espoused visions
similar to Newt’s, imagining moon bases by 1980 with trips to Mars to
follow. Indeed, Disney World’s “Flight
to the Moon” became obsolete in “Tomorrowland” and was replaced by “Mission to
Mars” in 1975. With the moon race won,
however, budgetary pressures led to the scrapping of the final three moon
missions in favor of Skylab, a short-lived American space station. Further travel to the stars was then shelved
in favor of the more cost-effective space shuttle, which could be reused.

While
Americans gradually lost interest in space, the still-fresh memory of the
program remained important into the 1970s and early 80s. Science fiction reached new heights with the
incredible success of the “Star Wars” trilogy from 1977-83 and the consequent
revival of “Star Trek.” “The Right
Stuff,” (1983), with its heroic portrayal of the original Mercury astronauts,
fueled talk of a presidential run for John Glenn, then a U.S. Senator from Ohio. Despite the Hollywood
treatment, Glenn’s 1984 campaign barely got off the ground and former
Vice-President Walter Mondale and a then-unknown Gary Hart trounced him in the
Democratic primaries.

Starting
with the maiden voyage of Columbia in 1981, the space shuttle program produced
important scientific gains like the Hubble Telescope, but missions to low Earth
orbit could not inspire the national imagination in the same way a voyage to
the moon did. Over time, Americans began to only pay serious attention to NASA
when there were tragedies, like the 1986 Challenger explosion. That disaster brought about national
mourning, in part because it was the first time astronauts had been lost in
flight, but also because the space program was still a key part of American
identity. Witness the far less emotional
reaction a generation later to the 2003 Columbia disaster. Only the gimmick of sending the 77 year-old
Glenn back into space on Discovery in 1998 drew significant media attention for
a success.

The
decline of blockbuster science fiction reflected this to some degree. The biggest movie franchises of the last decade
did not occur in space but were earth-bound fantasies such as “Lord of the
Rings” and “Harry Potter.” While I enjoyed these films immensely, they were
largely backward looking, particularly LOTR, which seemed to glorify a rural,
feudal past.

Though
both President Bushes proposed returning to the moon, President Obama is
largely privatizing the program with the intent of eventually launching a trip
to land astronauts on an asteroid. Furthermore,
public support for space travel remains low in light of contemporary budget
deficits. The nation also seems to have
lost the passion for space to the point that Newt is mocked for the same ideas that
respectable scientists suggested a generation ago. This dynamic seems unlikely
to change anytime soon. As some have speculated, it may take a challenge from
another foreign power like China to inspire a revitalized space program.